Warring Siblings
by thetickingclock18
Summary: What if Harry had been born a year earlier? Eventually Super! Harry. NO SLASH and Rating May Change.
1. Self-Updating Table of Contents

Disclaimer: No, I really want to but I don't own Harry Potter, so please stop accusing me of copyright infringement.

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I encourage you to read and review, but can't force you because it's your own choice.

Author's Notes: HI readers, this is my first story! :)

This Table of Contents is updated every time I post a new chapter, and also is used as an note board to communicate with my readers.

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Chapters:

Prologue- Collecting Debts (9/9/13)

Chapter 1- That Faithful Night (9/11/13)

Chapter 2- The Three Sibilings (9/14/13)

Chapter 3- Holding your Heart Close to You (9/19/13)

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I'll post chapters about once or twice a week, so don't be impatient.


	2. Prologue

Disclaimer: I own nothing for now.

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Summary of story; the prophesy claimed that the savior would be born with the power to 'vanquish the dark lord' at the end of July. But what year it didn't specify. Harry Potter was born on the second before August on 1979, while Steven Potter was born TWO minutes before the end of August on 1980, and his little sister, Avery Potter was born right on the second AFTER July ended on 1981. Voldemort visited the Potter family when Harry was 2 years and three months old, Steven 15 months, and Avery 3 months old. Dumbledore doesn't ever suspect Harry to be the one of the prophesy, as said prediction was made AFTER Harry was born, and keeps his eyes on Steven and Avery.

_flashback_

_s/s/ parseltounge /s/s_

**_L/_** _mindspeak/legilimency/any type of mind art **/L**_

_***side note, or different language***_

**whatever word may seem important**

* * *

Prologue

_The waning sun's red glare illuminated the Leaky Cauldron in it's afternoon light. The business was blooming, despite the war, partially because of the truce each side had declared to keep this haven peaceful, and also because of the auror recruiting station nearby, sending the fresh soldiers on guard duty._

_Tom the bartender was laboriously wiping the tables, washing the dishes and cleaning the glasses for his customers, whistling as he did so. His dirty rag that he used as a mop was blacker than ever before, and the soldiers and children and families that came in for a break all gave him smiles, even though albeit tired and weary ones._

_The Cauldron's size had expanded to triple its size before the war. Stragglers and strangers all were attracted to the only safe place in London, and food was scarce, while at the Cauldron there was plenty. Tom was used to strange customers all the time._

_He had hosted beggars, princes, politicians, people of all natures and stature._

_But the man that had just walked into the bar attracted his eyes. He wore a plain grey suit, perfectly dressed like a lawyer. His attire was normal, and seemed to blend in with the walls. But that was why he had attracted Tom's attention; he was too plain._

_His face had a sharp chin, piercing green eyes, evidence of a growing beard and mustache, and raven hair. Looked like he wasn't any older than eighteen._

_The man politely walked up, his foot pace not too slow or to fast, not giving away any clues to what he might be here for. His face seemed unnaturally blank._

_He put a galleon, a pretty and shiny one at that on the counter, and said;_

_"I'm here to meet with Blaise Zabini, sir. He had ought to tell you to expect me." His mouth moved without a trace of smile or frown._

_Tom nodded, and rang a bell._

_"Blaise had told me about ya, you can go right up." The person nodded respectfully, and ascended the stairs to the second floor._

_The man climbed the stairs with a cat-like grace after he was out of Tom's sight._

_He passed room 4a, 4b, 4c... aha! he had reached his destination; room 4e._

_He rapped with his smooth knuckles sharply on the door, once, twice, three times._

_There was silence at first, but then a shuffling sound was heard, and the door opened to admit him. Blaise tried to put up a cheerful face, but failed miserably when his eyes sagged with his depression._

_His hair was unshaven; his skin sickly yellow and pale, eyes dull and lacking precision. His shoulders where hunched, with the weight of his financial difficulties upon them._

_The lawyer took a seat by the only table in the room._

_"What do you want?" he growled._

_"Ice tea, please." The man replied instantly, without missing a pace. He pulled a little notebook out of his pocket. Blaise snarled, before shaping his mouth into a grimace of a smile._

_"NO! I don't mean that. What are you here for? Who sent you?" His voice sounded anything but pleasant; at least he made a effort. The grey man looked down at his notebook for a moment, then..._

_"Do you remember the impassionate speech you made four weeks ago, when you denounced the Potter Family in public? On that same day, your long-held and unpaid debt to Conrad Lawrence was due; you had owed two million to us, and failed to deliver." Blaise glared at him._

_"So, what if I owed you money? So, what are you going to do to me? The worst you could do to me is to torture and kill me, to end my miserable life. I have no more money." Killing him was the main objective of his visit, the grey man mused. His mouth twisted up in a smile._

_"But your family..."_

_"My mother is out of the country! You won't be able to catch her!" He was foaming at the mouth. There was silence for a minute, and Blaise's certainty of his mother's safety from his debt collectors diminished every second._

_The grey man took out of his clipboard a photo, and passed it wordlessly to Blaise. He took one look at it, before his legs collapsed from underneath him; the piece of enchanted paper slipped from his numb fingers to the ground. His breathing became labored; he suddenly dropped to his knees in front of the tax collector._

_"Please! Please! I'll do anything! Just don't hurt her!" He was becoming hysterical._

_The grey man calmly took his pleading arms and hoisted him up to his feet, then bode him to sit._

_"There's nothing you can do now, my friend. I'm here to inform you that if you can't provide the two million, your mother will pay. Remember; sweat and blood will wash your debt away." He understood the meaning after a second. After all, he was a Slytherin, wasn't he? "Well, we'll take a muggle carriage to your mother's current residence for her to say good-bye. After that... Well, to put it bluntly, slave labor."_

_He stared off into a corner of the room. He contemplated his miserable life, and knew that it was about to end._

_The horrible, evil grey man sent off the last parting shot. With words that only they would understand, he said the final, fatal commands. Blaise suddenly knew exactly who he was, as only he had that sense of humor._

_"I'll be **waiting** for you. **Downstairs.**"_

_The man slowly, deliberately opened the door leading out to the hall, and took his final look at his long-time rival. He smiled briefly; a real one this time, before heading out._

_He got to the first floor and disappeared out the front doors. The grey man walked out into the muggle world, with a black shiny car waiting for him, ready to pick him up. The driver, as well-dressed as his boss, started up the car, and an invisible valet magically opened the door for him._

_The man stopped and turned, for one last time, to make sure that his words worked._

_He only needed to wait for a minute._

_A blur of movement at the top of the building. A shatter as a fleshy body crashed from the skies down into a neighing horse's carriage. Spraying blood. Screams, then hoarse yelling. Mr. Blaise, as Dumbledore would have put it, was off to his next great adventure._

_The grey man had done his job well. He smiled for the second time that day, and felt his forehead instinctively, a habit coming from his childhood. There was no scar there anymore._


	3. That Faithful Night

Disclaimer: No, I really want to but I don't own Harry Potter, so please stop accusing me of copyright infringement.

_flashback_

_s/s/ parseltounge /s/s_

**_L/_** _mindspeak/legilimency/any type of mind art **/L**_

_***side note, or different language***_

**whatever word may seem important**

* * *

Chapter 1

**_*It had all started on that faithful night...*_**

Thomas Marvolo Riddle strode down the stone path, right towards the Potter Couple's house in Godric's Hollow. His hands trembled in anticipation.

It was a cold and windy night, and nobody in their right mind would be out today. Riddle could nearly see the house now; he was so close. He could no longer feel the charm that had concealed them so long from him work anymore, as faithful Pettigrew had gave him the address for their home.

He was in a good mood today; Dumbledore was called to France for a ICW meeting, and the aurors and their pitiful ministry law enforcement agencies were all at home, to celebrate Halloween.

The task that he had taken upon himself was simple; go in, stun the couple immediately, so that Evans girl could be Severus's whore, then murder the children. As soon as that was done, he could apparate out with the red-head woman. Then he could finally celebrate for a whole night with torturing some muggles.

He wanted to cackle with glee as he entered the house. Warm yellow light flooded his vision as he strode up and wrenched open the old wooden door. The silencing charms he had put on made sure that they didn't hear him, and he swept into the house.

Pictures and paintings decorated the house; on one end of the main welcoming hallway hanged a shield and two crossed swords. The walls were painted white sloppily, and Riddle used his mage sight to find his would-be victims.

The wraith-like apparition saw two adult magic cores floating in what would be the living room, eating dinner. Three small magical cores floated above him, most likely their children.

Riddle was too lazy to walk into the living room, so he decided to go with the dramatic entrance instead. He let off a powerful blasting curse at the wall separating him and the living room. A bolt of crimson light sped towards the fragile looking wall.

When it impacted, the displaced matter shattered and a hole the width of a man's height appeared.

The huge noise and swirling dust disrupted the surprised couple's quiet eating, and Riddle stunned them before they could even react. two bodies slumped in their chairs.

The living room had a large glass table in the middle, with four wood chairs, and several sandwiches on the pretty china plates. If Riddle still possessed an appetite after all his dark rituals, he would have grabbed them and gobbled them down instantly, because such was the skill of Lily Potter's cooking. Two window-glass doors were by the kitchen counter, and a magical refrigerator was facing opposite of them.

He left them, and climbed up the rickety stairs to the second floor. There was no pictures on the walls now, just scribbles of cranyons and markers by the little kids adorning the place. Very colorful, Riddle thought.

He flicked his wand, and all of the doors on the second floor flipped open, so he could find which one held the three Potter siblings.

Not aware of this act being his downfall, he stepped carefully into the room that held the children, and leveled his wand at the child he thought was the Chosen One.

The youngest sibling, the sister, was playing with a block toy, while the oldest was trying to stop his younger brother from eating an ant. They all looked up when the murderer entered the room, not sure whether he was their father or a stranger.

Riddle, Voldemort, as he called himself now, was grumbling inside, as he wasn't sure which one was the prophesied child.

"Ah well," he said to himself, "I'll just kill them all."

He raised his arm, and then with a _swooshing _noise, swung his right hand down, stopping when it was pointed towards a child's forehead.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Agony. He felt agony. Just pure, unrelenting agony and a searing heat inside him. How could this happen? It was impossible! It was-

Riddle at that moment burst into flame, searing the things around him, dropping his hot exploding wand on the youngest sibling, the girl. The horcruxes tried to anchor him to life, while his own killing curse tried to detach his soul from his body. In the end, the horcruxes won a partial victory; he was reduced to a mere spirit on the physical plane.

When the screams and cries of the little children eventually woke the parents, they rushed up stairs to find all three of their children hurt and a ragged robe and wand slowly turning into ashes.

Lily and James immediately flooed St. Mungoes and Albus Dumbledore. The aurors had apprehended Peter Pettigrew outside the Godric's Hollow, and awaited trial.

There was tense silence in the household, only broken when the Chief Warlock arrived.

The twinkling old coot apparated immediately to their house, looking down through his spectacles at the burning robe which once was worn by You-Know-Who. The three children had been already taken away, being treated for their injuries, which will be later on revealed.

"What does this mean, Albus?" Lily asked, her voice hoarse from shouting in the floo to the nurses.

"This means," Dumbledore paused and thought for a second. "that Voldemort is gone, for now. Vanquished by the power of love, bestowed upon him by his mother."

Lily breathed a sigh of relief, but James caught up to his meaning. "For now, Albus? You mean he will return?" Dumbledore nodded sagely.

"He will one day return. His horcruxes will anchor him to his life, and what I fear most is that he had just added another to his numerous ones." James was shocked.

"Y-you mean that one of our children has been turned into a Horcrux? What can happen to them?" Dumbledore hastily reassured the parents.

"Most likely nothing. It cannot possess anyone, as it is inside a living being, and is 'dormant', so to speak. Tom may have never wanted to make young Steven one, so the meager soul piece would only be turned aware if we probed it. Unfortunately, we cannot remove it without damaging his own soul as well." He lied through his teeth.

"How can you be sure it is Steven?" Lily asked curiously, frightened at the possibility that one of her children may have a piece of Voldemort's soul in them. "Why not Harry, or Avery?" Dumbledore twinkled his eyes, and unbeknownst to them, wandlessly and silently shot two spells at them to make them trust him totally.

"Because, I have figured... Steven is the child that the prophesy mentions. 'Born as the seventh month dies' is the clue that points towards him. And that 'marks him as his equal' did you see Steven's left arm when he was carried from this room? It had a burn mark on it, like a dark mark." The parents both nodded immediately. "In the future, when Steven is old enough, he'll have to have the right training, to one day fulfill the prophesy. Understand?" The Potter Couple nodded obediently. He gave James a lemon drop, and flooed back over to his hotel in France to pay off his bills.

James popped the lemon drop into his mouth. Lily was still looking at the green fire, as if she could divine what would happen in the future from them.

"I guess Albus is right. The whole future of our world rests on Steven. And he's **our **son." James grinned proudly.

"I don't know..." Lily muttered. "It seems too much to take in..."

"Imagine, my dearest Lily!" His smile stretched wider. "Our boys-"

"and girl" interrupted Lily.

"-vanquished You-Know-Who! There'll be toys, toothbrushes, even underwear with our name on it! Do you know that bounty on his head? That's about like twenty million galleons we just earned in one swoop! All those ancient families that he eradicated? About 25% of their total assets goes to whomever avenges them! Once news gets out, we'll be celebrities!"

"But James, how will we raise them properly? We can't let them become enamored with fame, that's for sure. We have three children!" James was quietly thinking for a moment.

"We won't let them know about their fame then. We'll raise them without that knowledge, and sometimes take them out anonymously into the muggle world to get them accustom to crowds and socializing. Well as for the too many children problem, we'll get friends that have time and patience to raise them." Lily brightened.

"What about Sevy?" James immediately shook his head.

"What? Him? Snivellus isn't even capable of any patience! Well, why not Frank and Alice?" Lily this time disagreed.

"The Longbottoms are too preoccupied with their jobs and own son; Frank is the Head Auror, Alice is a Daily Prophet reporter, and their grandmother is raising Neville Longbottom."

"But not Snivellus!"

"Yes! James! Why can't you look past your early rivalry!?"

"Greasy nose can't either!"

"That's too petty! Be a man! Severus is at least helpful with me; let me and him raise Avery. Well, as for Harry..." James got a lightbulb. Just at that moment Sirius rushed in. His hair was totally in disarray. His eyes brightened when he saw his close friends unhurt.

"What happened? Are you okay? I heard about the traitor... That rat Peter!" He managed to rush out. He was pretty out of breath after riding extremely fast on his motorbike. James bade him to sit.

"Calm down... Calm there... Sirius, are you okay?" He nodded, winded. James turned to Lily.

"Me and Sirius can handle Steven! When you said Harry... Do you'd think the Dursley's would take him for a day at a time, or are they still so afraid of magic that they wouldn't even say the word?"

Lily tilted her head thoughtfully. Then Sirius got his breath back.

"Soooo... What's gonna happen to Peter? I hope the rat gets thrown into Azakaban for this!"

"He'll probably get sentenced to life there." Lily shuddered at her own words.

"But what about You-Know-Who? What's with the miracle that happened? How were you spared?"

James did the narrative.

"We were eating dinner when he barged in. A blasting curse to the wall-" He gestured to the man-sized hole in the wall. "-and he stunned us quicker than you could say 'diagon alley'. We were so surprised that we didn't even have time to draw our wands!"

Here Sirius muttered a "Peter" right there.

"When we woke it was to the sound of Harry and Steven wailing like banshees. We ran upstairs to find a scar on Harry's forehead, a burn on Steven's left arm, and a gash running from Avery's shoulder to breast. We don't really know what happened, but You-Know-Who was gone, and Dumbledore said so." Sirius grunted.

"Don't trust everything that comes out of that coot's mouth." Lily waved it off with her hand.

"That's nonsense! He wouldn't lie on this stuff." Sirius gave them a strange look, but asked another question.

"So you said something about raising your children?" James took over.

"We were thinking of two people taking care of one. Petunia and Remus babysit Harry, me and you take care of Steven, and Lily and Snivillus take care of Avery."

Sirius's eyes glinted in mischief. "We? Raise the Boy-Who-Lived? This will be awesome! Too bad Remy has to take care of Harry though..." Lily whacked him on the head.

"Who gave you that silly name... the Boy-Who-Lived? That's even worse than 'You-Know-Who'! And James, try and keep Sirius on a leash, will you?" James and Sirius nodded dutifully.

"We solemnly swear that we will raise Steven properly and without knowledge of his fame." and Lily was satisfied.

"I'll talk to Sev and Petunia... I don't know if she will agree, though." Then over the floo connection came Arthur Weasley, Frank Longbottom and his wife, Alice.

Alice immediately took a look around the room and whipped out a reporter's notepad, scribbling down random words and notes for her report. Frank did several magical signature checks, and Arthur Weasley got another chair.

They all hugged the couples; they had expected them to be dead when they had received warning from Dumbledore of another attack. After the shaken couple repeated their story to the crowd again, their friends shared their own news.

"The death eater ranks have already disbanded; the followers of You-Know-Who that had dark marks on them felt them fade, and deserted. My aurors are already sweeping the area, but some of the higher-ups in the inner circle got away. Severus didn't count; we let him go, and he also helped us round up the Carrows." Sirius cheered.

"Karkaroff was captured," added Alice, "but Lucius Malfoy and Barty Crouch Junior escaped." James shook his head sadly

"So Malfoy's going to plead imperius again? Pity. Uncle Cyrus was so much thoughtful and kinder than him..." Arthur jumped up.

"Sorry guys, I've gotta go and tell Molly the news!" He leapt back into the fire.

Alice and Frank nodded. "We've got to go home too. Our Neville is waiting!" The two exchanged tender smiles and strode into the green flames again, disappearing.

Sirius tried to follow them, but the green flames sputtered out, and he had to take the motorbike home instead.

With the euphoria gone, the two parents contemplated their future in silence.

* * *

Petunia Dursley wasn't a morning person. She was only a afternoon person, and a grumpy one at that.

So when she discovered a white freaking _owl _hooting and tapping on her fiber-glass window, she nearly shot it with her pistol, which was concealed inside her table drawer. Ever since the war started, as a precaution, she had armed herself in case that mad-man Lily was talking about came for her. She had even practiced with it on a firing range!

But then she saw the letter tied onto its leg. Frigging wizards! Having the use of instant 'floo' and 'apparation' and they use _owls _to send letters!

Unbeknownst to Lily, she actually read her letters. She found it harder every time not to reply, but that would mean Lily would know she had actually read one of her tear-soaked melodramatic letters where she said that she was maybe going to die, since the dork lordy thingy was after her.

Petunia opened the window cautiously, and quickly pulled the message from the indignant owl's leg. The owl flew into her white-washed room, and perched on her bed-still. On her bed!

Petunia ignored the annoying animal and opened up the letter, cutting open the green wax carefully.

The pale parchment inside revealed the following contents:

_Petunia. It's me. Lily, your sister._

_Its finally over. The war._

Petunia breathed a personal sigh of relief, then continued reading.

_You-Know-Who, also as I have told you, Lord Voldemort, has be defeated. By whom? None other than my baby, Steven. Miracles exist in this world, Petunia, so don't be surprised. _

_Keep constant vigilance, as my teacher Alastor always says. Some of his followers are still out there, so keep practicing your gun, and keep it with you. If you have any trouble, mail me, or call me by phone. _

_The main reason I have sent you this letter, Petunia, is to inform you that I'll be calling you at 11:00 a.m. today. Don't act so surprised; I know that you read my letters. I will ask if you have time to eat lunch with me today. I need to discuss with you many things. Will you at least consider eating lunch with me, my sister? _

_With the end of the war, our family will emerge as celebrities, since we brought a end to the war. there will be reporters, journalists, even illegal ones that are so hungry for a piece of news they'll even considering giving you a truth potion. I want to arrange something for you to make sure you're safe. _

_If you don't want to talk with me, send the letter back. If you do, burn it._

_I have always kept a piece of my heart for you,_

_Lily _

Privacy-invading wizards, Petunia thought. Obviously Lily had put some sort of charm on the letter to sense whether it was opened and read.

Normally, Petunia would have sent the letter back immediately. But when Lily mentioned her family's privacy into that paragraph, plus all that pleading, Petunia had changed her mind. Plus also Vernon was going out on a business meeting with some important guy, and she had heard that the Italian restaurant opening down the street was pretty good... She was going.

* * *

Lily Potter was annoyed.

She wasn't very easy to frustrate, so this was saying a lot.

Petunia had accepted, true, but she was starting to wonder if she chose this restaurant on purpose, just to annoy her.

Firstly, this Italian restaurant was waaaaaay too expensive. She had already read the menu, and it was too extravagant, even in Wizarding standards.

Secondly, Petunia was late ten minutes. Lily had counted.

The fancy wood chair that she sat on also had splinters in it, and the table cloth was oval shaped and pale yellow, giving her the impression of a giant lemon drop.

Her phone calls to Petunia's house were unanswered, so she had assumed that her sister was on her way.

Where in the world was she? Petunia always valued punctual timing. Would she make her wait for her for so long?

She was shaken out of her thoughts by the bell ringing, signaling that another customer had entered the fancy restaurant.

"Tuney?" It was she. Mrs. Dursley sat down on the seat opposite of her. She wore a salmon-cocktail dress, and had her hair tied back in a tight bun.

"Lily." She said back. Lily mentally shook herself. It wasn't everyday that you met a person you haven't seen in about a decade.

"Lets get down to business." Lily started. Petunia leaned forward. "I know you're a straight down-to-earth person, so I apologize if my words sound rude. I'm here to negotiate with you. You help me and Remus (remember the guy you had a crush on before you met Vernon?) raise and babysit my little Harry, and in exchange I guarantee your safety from rabid reporters, mad-men, and other 'freakish' things by setting up wards." Petunia looked interested.

"First, I want to be up-to-date about things in your m-magical world. What started everything? Spill." So she did.

"Remember first; nothing said here gets mentioned in public. This is private information, understand?" Petunia nodded. "Okay; so our problems all started with a prophesy." The muggle woman blinked.

"Prophesy?"

"A prediction by a seer. Like in Greece, those fortune-tellers?"

"Yes."

"Our Headmaster, Albus, who you wrote to on my first year, was interviewing this seer for a position at our school."

"That old man? He's still alive?"

"Very."

"Go on."

"Well, just when he was interviewing her, she started going into a trance involuntarily, and like all prophets, started speaking in this hoarse voice."

"This sounds like a badly filmed horror movie."

"True, true... So anyways, she said this:

* * *

**_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ... _**

**_-JKR_**

* * *

"

"What?!"

"Shhhhhh! Lower your voice." Lily hushed. "Dumbledore heard that, and well, out of curiosity, looked for babies that were born in July."

"Your Steven was born in July!" Petunia figured.

"And he found us, and one Neville Longbottom."

"Longbottom?"

"Come on, let me continue."

"Okay, okay."

"Unknown to Dumbledore, a spy of Voldemort was outside that door, and he heard the prophesy, and had already told his master, but only half, because he didn't have time to hear the rest."

"Now this does really sound like a bad horror movie."

"And then Voldemort did the same conclusion as Dumbledore; and he chose our family over the Longbottoms. He came to us that Halloween night, yesterday, and after stunning me and James, attacked my poor babies."

"And you said a miracle happened?"

"Of course! The unblockable Killing Curse was deflected by my Steven's magical power. It rebounded, and killed the mad-man."

"No offense, but this sounds like the start of a fairy tale. So go on; the man was killed."

"But, we suspect that Voldemort has somehow survived, even though he was hit by the most lethal curse known. You see; there was no body." Petunia shook his head at the stupidity of wizards.

"There's an American saying 'if there isn't a body, than he's ain't dead'."

"Dumbledore, who knows a lot about these things, told us that Voldemort is only weakened; he'll definitely one day rise again. So Steven, as the child of the Prophesy, will have to fulfill it."

"So, you're saying that he needs special training and care, but since you're preoccupied, you have to find babysitters for your other children?" Lily hesitated, then nodded. Petunia shook her head. "Frankly, I'm disgusted. You would abandon your eldest son to your sister- not just that, but I hate magic and you know it! You would abandon him just because you're 'too busy' and you have to give your precious savior 'special treatment'. I thought you were better than that, Lily. I thought that you had more kindness, more sense than the rest of those wizards. It seems I was wrong. The answer is no."

There was a sudden hardness in Lily's eyes. When she spoke, her voice was a bit choked.

"Do you think that I wanted to 'abandon' my Harry?" She glared. "If you weren't interested, you could just have said so." She stood stiffly and walked out, leaving Petunia behind. They haven't even eaten anything. What a happy reunion, Lily thought angrily.

Petunia though, was immersed in her own thoughts, them flying around in her head at a lightning pace.

Declining meant no protection; but it also meant she wouldn't have to spend time babysitting too.

But Lily's near-death experience had woken her up to the fact of her own fragile and mortal life. It made her think of who she would eventually pass her legacy onto, who would remember Petunia Evans as anything else than a spiteful, bitter woman. This offer was a chance for her to pass on some of her own hard-owned lessons in life.

This Harry...

He sounded like her; put in the shadow of their siblings, the plain one, the neglected one... He was so much like her, in some ways. Could she help him? Would she help him?

She wanted a chance to make her mark on the world. Now she had it. Why wouldn't she accept?

Because he's a freak, she told herself. But it wasn't true, and she knew it.

It was such a simple decision, but Petunia Dursley had no idea what affect it would have on his and her life.

Petunia stood, and ran after Lily, who was just leaving.

"Wait, I've changed my mind!"


	4. The Three Sibilings

Disclaimer: No, I really want to but I don't own Harry Potter, so please stop accusing me of copyright infringement.

I urge you to read and review, but can't force you because it's your own choice.

_flashback_

_s/s/ parseltounge /s/s_

**_L/_** _mindspeak/legilimency/any type of mind art **/L**_

_***side note, or different language***_

**whatever word may seem important**

* * *

Chapter 2

And that was how the things were done.

Avery Lily Potter went with Lily Potter and Severus Snape, and grew up smelling potions fumes.

Steven James Potter went with James Potter and Sirius Black, and grew up learning the arts of pranking and mischief.

Harry Lupin Potter went with Remus Lupin and Petunia Dursley nee Evans, and grew up reading both muggle and magical books, and wandered the thin line between the place where reality becomes diluted by magic, and the sharp reasoning of muggles fixes things into rules and laws.

Despite their differences, all three siblings lived in the same Potter Manor.

And despite their vows, all three of them knew of Steve's status in the Wizarding World. Uncle 'Sevie' accidentally slipped it to Avery, Steven saw an old newspaper with his name on it when going to Flourish and Bolts, and Harry Potter had magical eidetic memory, so he didn't count.

Avery was a late sleeper; she was usually up all night reading and finishing her fiction stories, and James was not much better.

That was why the poor little eleven year old Harry Lupin Potter was the only one up in the morning. Lily, who he never called mom anymore, was out with Severus Snape, to see him off to Hogwarts, and left the cooking breakfast task to her husband, James, who Harry never called dad anymore.

Unfortunately, Potter Senior was busy, since he had gotten a new job, and was preparing for going to work today, and so since Harry was hungry and he knew his siblings would be too when they came down stairs, he had to cook.

That didn't really matter; Harry liked cooking, and learned quite a lot from his aunt Petunia, and also picked up lots of tips from the many chefs that he had met while traveling the world. This morning, he was determined to make the breakfast much more low on oil and meat, as the people in North America had said that fat breakfasts weren't very healthy.

Hmmm... What should he cook?

He took a look inside the refrigerator. No bacon, about five more eggs left, and a dozen sausages... Cereal was good, the milk was fresh, yes, hmm... Pancakes?

After activating the kitchen materials with a tap of his holly wood-acromantula hair wand, he got out the white and fragile-shelled eggs, cracked them slightly on the marble kitchen counter, and sizzled each one at a time on Lily's rune-carved frying pan. He expected his siblings to be getting out of bed soon!

He deftly slid the eggs out of the frying pan, and tossed in the sausages, plus some ginger and onions and a bit of garlic. A wonderful smell soon permeated the white room. He could already hear his younger brother's footsteps slowly stumbling down the stairs.

While the sausages heated, he got out several pieces of whole-grain bread and put them into the toaster. He also got out flour, honey, butter and milk.

He pulled out a larger frying pan, and set it on another stove. Time for the pancakes!

Steven stumbled into the room clumsily. He glanced up.

"Mom, what's for- oh, its you Harry!" said person didn't even look up. Steven and Avery all considered him to be their baby-sitter. James and Lily had saw how maturely he handled his siblings, and rather than hire a maid sworn to privacy, they felt they could just rely on Harry and Sirius to do the kid-handling work. And his siblings did see him as a baby-sitter; his matureness made them look up to him as if he was their mother and father, rather than a brother only one-year older than them.

"Eggs, pancakes, cereal and sausages today." Steven frowned, as his most loved food was missing.

"What about bacon?"

"Ran out." Harry replied briskly.

"Awwwwwww. Darn! Where's mom?" He moaned. No bacon? Impossible!

"Lily's out with Severus to see him of to Hogwarts, Steve, as well as to prepare for Hogwarts herself." Steven nodded.

"I forgot! Today's the day you gotta go to Hogwarts, right? Darn, I wish I could go to school early!" He went to the dining room, and looked up the schedule sheet that Sirius had put up there, along with the monthly calendar. The white sheet was in contrast with the dark wallpaper and decorations and furniture around it. "Hey, Sirius is gonna pick me and Avery up at ten, so ya don't have to worry about me. Where's dad?"

"Preparing for his new job- breakfast's ready!" He had already made several huge pancakes on the pan, and then pulled out three dishes from the dishwasher machine.

He placed the pancakes on the dishes, and then put them down on the dining table, and placed the honey bottle in the middle. Just then Avery came trundling down the stairs. Her hair was a mess, and she was in her pajamas.

"Mmmm... Breakfast, you say?" she took one look at the pancakes before racing for the forks. Steven shook his head sadly while Harry teased the sausages of the pan and onto the center plate.

"My sister eats so much more than me, but why is she so skinny?" Harry got a fork from the dishwasher. Avery was so distracted by the food she had only time to whack Steven on the head.

"Idiots. Who said I ate a lot?" She proved herself wrong when she poured honey over her pancakes, then speared them and stuffed them one-by-one down her gullet greedily. "You made this, Harry?"

"Yep." There was some silence for a moment. Then,

"Not bad, for a beginner in cooking." Steven looked indignant on his brother's behalf.

"You forgot to say the magic word, though." Avery had finished the pancakes.

"What if I don't?" She challenged.

"Then I'll feel bad, and next time I might not make you breakfast." She shrugged.

"Nah. You're my big brother, and its your duty to serve us younger kids." She piled up the sausages onto her plate.

Harry wasn't listening though, because he was getting the toast and jam. Steven gave a snide jab.

"You talk like Harry's bad at cooking. Would you do better than him?" Avery's pride puffed up.

"Of course! See? He almost burnt the eggs!" She wasn't even touching them. Steven poked his tongue out at her, and then took the fried eggs for his own. "I've learned a lot from Uncle Sevie and mom at the finer arts of food-making."

"Snivellus? The only thing he's good at is brewing potions-"

"-which is very similar to cooking! Stupid brother." She spat at him.

"Oi! Do you know who you're callin' stupid here?"

"Duh, my older brother."

"That's right! Your older brother and the Boy-Who-Lived!" Steven had played his trump card.

"What are you guys whining about?" Harry had spread some jam onto his toast and grabbed a glass of milk. Avery pointed towards Steven, who hastily batted her accusing hand away.

"He's trying to convince me that Uncle Sevie isn't good at what he teaches." Steve found an opening to interrupt again.

"He's can't even control his temper around dad! You think he's a GOOD teacher? Your mental!"

"Then explain why the Headmaster didn't sack him already?"

"The old man's mental too!"

"SILENCE!" There was an awkward silence. Harry then lowered his hands, and glared at both. He himself had already abandoned those childish squabbles quite a few years ago, courtesy of Remus and Petunia's teachings.

"Who's yelling?" a very familiar voice inquired from behind them. All three children twisted around to see their dad, James Potter, dressed in handsome black robes, hair swept back, though still messy, and brown eyes mock sternly surveying them in an effort to impersonate McGonagall. Steven laughed.

"You're a Hogwarts Professor now?" the tense atmosphere broke. "What post?"

"What else? The Defense Against the Dark Arts post, of course!" He jovially exclaimed.

"WHAT? Your new job is as a professor at Hogwarts? I didn't know it was possible! What would Sirius say about this?" Harry nearly shouted.

"He already knows."

"And you told him but you didn't tell us?" said Avery angrily.

"I didn't tell him; yesterday he found my papers on the desk, but it's supposed to be a secret."

"Impressive. James, are you going to stand there or eat breakfast?" Harry asked.

"Breakfast? Oh, pancakes..." He grabbed a plate and forks.

Within a few minutes the food was gone, and the family of four had full stomachs.

"We'll be going to the King's Cross Station in 'bout a minute by side-along-apparition. Harry, are you ready? You other two, wait here obediently for Sirius, he's gonna come in a hour from now."

Harry hefted his traveling bag. Trunks seemed too clumsy and old-fashioned for him, and he decided to follow the more modern style. With some runes planted on it by Detroit technomages, its inside was as spacious as an apartment. Security measures were installed, and passwords were required.

"Lets go."

James levitated his trunks over to him, and grasped them by the handles. He leaned over to touch Harry on the shoulder, and they were whisked away instantly.

* * *

The King's Cross station was fairly crowded. Once they were past the magical barrier, though, there was very few younger kids. So little first years going to Hogwarts this year!

Harry could recognize only a few of the people getting on the train. One was Celestina Warbeck's love-child, Quentin Warbeck, a boy who his mother called 'Edglar Eaglethine', Resnov Parkinson, Kimi Shunpike, Percy Weasley, Cho Chang nearby Cedric Diggory, that stupid Cormac McLaggen, Penelope Clearwater and finally, and unbelievably, Dudley Dursley, his most wonderful cousin.

Dudley was now much more fit, though still on the brawny side, with a more shapely face. Harry's mouth dropped open.

"Dudley!?" James behind him frowned. This didn't look like the boy Lily described to him at all!

Said person sauntered up haughtily, holding his trunk on the end of his arm like it was a mere book bag. "See anyone else around here called that name?"

"Whaaaaaa... You're a wizard Dudley!" Harry couldn't believe it. Dudley grinned boyishly.

"Mother and father didn't believe it either when I got the letter. Contrary to my expectations, they weren't even the slightest bit angry!"

"... What happened to you, Dudley?"

"What, you want me to revert back to my mean, bullying self? Argh, I'm gonna beat ya up!" He made a impersonation of his younger self.

"Never mind." James behind him coughed loudly. Dudley held out his hand cheerfully

"Nice to meet you here, Professor Potter. I'm sure we can become acquaintances in the future." James took his hand and shook it.

"Me too. Now lets get on the train before it leaves. I sure don't want to be late! So, what were you saying about your 'bullying self'?" Uh oh.

* * *

The three relatives jumped on the train, with Dudley helping James heft the trunks, and James soon had to go to the teacher's compartment.

When the two cousins got into their own compartment, Dudley breathed a sigh of relief.

"Your dad's a interesting man, Harry. You know that?" Harry smirked.

"He's onto you. You've won this round, but he'll be after you. He used to be an interrogation policeman, you know." He said auror in its muggle term.

Dudley groaned. "All that acting's gonna wear me out. So much for me making a good impression."

"So how did you get to Diagon Alley to get your supplies?"

"That nasty Snape guy let me use his owl to order them, but he was glaring at me all the time."

"Did you read any of the textbooks?" Dudley scoffed, one of the rare times he ever did.

"Cousin, these are like easy comprehension books we read in Elementary School. Seriously! The whole first year textbook for transfiguration are all about specific words in latin, or something, but in the last page of the textbook, there's this paragraph about how you don't really need the words or the wand motions if you focus hard enough. Come on! They say 'magic is all about intent', then wouldn't it mean we don't need to take charms, or defense, or transfiguration? In my opinion, this 'Wizarding World' is convoluted." Harry rolled his green eyes.

"Well, you could say wizards never picked the apple of wisdom in the Garden of Eden. Of course their logics are flawed when could do almost anything with a word we can do in a year of hard toil! Loose something, summon it. Break something, repair it. Need new stuff, transfigure it. Make a mistake, do it over. Hate someone, curse them. Love someone, use love potion. If someone sees something incriminating, wipe their memories. Wizards never truly understood the concepts of logic, responsibility, equality, freedom, or reality. Definitely not hard work!"

Just then, the compartment door opened. A girl's voice could be heard outside talking to Reznov Parkinson, 5th year Prefect.

"My sister is going to Hogwarts, too, and she wants me to write letters every week to her. The most I can do for her is to send her extra copies of bought books, but I would appreciate any extra knowledge, you know, since your from a wizard-raised the family. Okay, thanks!" The girl walked into the compartment nervously. She had brown mousy hair, a oval-ish face, and defined and sharp cheekbones with thin eyebrows.

"I would be happy to." Reznov replied in his deep voice. "Here's a not full compartment. You boys won't deny her a place to sit, will you?" The two boys shock their heads vigorously at him. He nodded, satisfied, and closed the glass doors. Dudley put on his 'welcome' face.

"Good morning, miss. I'm Dudley Dursley, and that's my cousin, Harry Potter. You are?" She replied after slight hesitation.

"Pametan Granger, but call me Padme, like in Star Wars." The two boys chorused at the same time;

"Hello, Padme." She blushed, and Dudley winked at Harry, who rolled his eyes.

"Your related to the Potters? Like in Steven Potter?" She tentatively asked. Harry nodded.

"Yeah, he's my brother. Don't worry, you don't have to ask me for his autograph because he'll be coming next year too." Pametan shook her head.

"I was going to ask you what was it like to live with a celebrity." Harry frowned, and thought for a minute.

"Now that you put it like that, I can tell you this; I feel proud when I'm his older brother, though sometimes I'm frustrated when he says 'I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, you can't tell me what to do'. I feel annoyed when people pay more attention to him than me, but that's not bad. I know Steven enjoys the attention."

"I have a few more questions to ask." She started shyly.

"Ask away, then." She put her stuff down into the luggage rack, and sat opposite of the two.

"What's your family like?"

"I have two siblings; an irresponsible sister, and an overly enthusiastic younger brother. A playboy father, an distracted mother, and best of all, an strict yet careful aunt whom I love." Pametan sighed wistfully.

"Ah... I only have a sister and a father; mom died in one of those death eater raids, but dad's always busy, and my sister, Hermione, always reads, so it's up to me to do everything. How I wish for a family like yours!" Dudley butted in.

"I have both my dad and mom, but I wish I wasn't the only child of the family; I'm so lonely!"

Both girl and boy chuckled.

"Friends then?"

"Friends."

"Friends."

* * *

The red train got to their destination soon.

An enormous half-giant, Hagrid, awaited them. The evening sky was dark, and the ickle first years were herded into their boats, while the upper years rode the carriages drawn by threstrals to the castle. All the firsties had a hard time getting their luggage onto the fragile-looking pieces of wood.

Harry, Padme, and Dudley all grouped together on a boat. A blond girl called Marget Makepeace joined them as well.

The boat ride to Hogwarts was eerily silent. The setting sun casted a red horizon, which the looming castle towers pierced through. Lanterns and other magical means of light gave of the impression of twinkling lights in the distance. The murky waters of the Black Lake gave a feeling of infinite darkness, while dull green lights glowed faintly underneath, proof of the ancient merpeople civilization living underneath.

Harry and Dudley nervously looked around them, afraid the small boat may capsize any minute. They swore they saw a tentacle slip out of the water and salute them.

When Hagrid knocked his enormous hand on the door, they both jumped, and then laughed good-naturedly. This was their first year Hogwarts experience, and he wanted to enjoy it. The famous ghosts of the castle drifted out to meet them, and the muggle-borns shrieked.

Mrs. McGonagall surveyed them sternly, and herded the nervous and confused first years up to the entrance hall near the Great Hall.

Harry could see Professor James and Lily Potter, Alice Longbottom, who was this year taking over the retiring Pomona Sprout, Severus Snape, Filch, Kettleburn, Christina Lovegood, who was teaching the seventh and sixth year students on par with Trelawney, Aurora Sinistra, Babbling, and Binns on the staff table. Just like Remus and Lily had told him, the ceiling reflected the night sky, and candles floated around the tables, bringing the older students banqueting at the table bright light.

Gold and silver goblets lied on the long, wooden, glossy tables, and the banners with the animal and color of the houses hung unfurled above their heads.

The non-first year students peered at the crowd of eleven year-olds expectantly, and Minerva McGonagall lined them up in front of the staff table for their sorting. Dudley, Harry, and Padme got in line.

There was a stool at the center of the stage, with a raggedy old hat on it. As his dad James had often talked about, the hat began their sorting with his song.

* * *

_**I'm not imaginative enough and too lazy to make a song, so too bad. If you have any neat ideas, notify me!**_

* * *

_The transfiguration professor had pulled out a scroll of parchment, and was beginning to call out names._

_"Bardsinner, Lughar!" The first student of the day, it seemed. _

_The moment I touched his head I knew which house he belonged in. Off you go, newcomer!_

_"Hufflepuff!" The word passes with great volume from my ragged lips._

_"Blackboots, Jane!" Ugh. This one could do well in Slytherin, but... _

_"Gryffindor!"_

_"Bobbin, Resnald!" Ouch! Be careful with that! I know you walk on crutches, but be more gentle, will you? Hmm. Good mind, and brave spirit, but you value loyalty above anything else. Good._

_"Hufflepuff!"_

_"Carpenter, John!" Another boy. Nope, no Slytherin. Not Hufflepuff, scratch that idea. Hate books?_

_"Gryffindor!"_

_"Chang, Maxwell!" and another. Not Slytherin? Okay. Nah, you don't have the guts to be in Gryffindor. What about Hufflepuff? Nope, not that. Fine, fine._

_"Ravenclaw!"_

_"Dursley, Dudley!" Ah. Quite the easygoing fellow, aren't you? Tough decision. Umm... No Slytherin, you're too un-aggressive. Hmm... Uh... Argh... __Gryffindor or Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw? Aghhhhhh you give me headaches! So be it. Not Gryffindor, cause that just doesn't suit you. So, Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw? I'd say Hufflepuff, but if you want to be with your friends... Darn. I'll have to sort Potter and Granger in that house than too. Can't have them separated, or fanfiction wouldn't be exciting._

_"Ravenclaw!" _

_"Eaglethine, Egdlar!" What a dirty mind._

_"Gryffindor!"_

_"Granger, Pametan!" I know where to put you!_

_"Ravenclaw!"_

_"Lynxroawn, Hector!" Whoah. Hmm... Since your going to be a main character in the future, then I'll need you too be somewhere to be able to gain influence._

_"Gryffindor!"_

_"Makepeace, Marget!" Loyalty at it's best. Helga would be proud!_

_"Hufflepuff!"_

_"Mandrake, Joey!" Ugh! Too much hair gel!_

_"Slytherin!"_

_"Potter, Harry!" Finally, his name was called. _

* * *

Loud whispers were heard, but Harry ignored them.

"Potter, did she say?"

"As in the Steven Potter type Potter?"

"He had a brother?"

Harry slowly walked to the stool for dramatics, took the hat off it, and placed it on his raven-hair after sitting down. He could feel something pressing lightly on his occlumency sensors. Whatever it was though, bypassed them as if his thin rock barriers was porous. Must be the 'thinking cap', he thought.

A snide, croaking voice emanating from inside his skull confirmed his assumptions.

_**L**/Heheheheheheheeee... Well, well, what do we have here?_

_Oh, boy... Raised by a squib aunt, and you scorn the foolishness of the Wizarding World, don't you. _

_You have to live with the curse of eidetic memory, to know who really is the Boy-Who-Lived, while every claim you make is rebuffed by your parents and siblings as jealousy. So that has spurned your hatred for our foolish Headmaster, who has proclaimed Steven the one in the first place, and desire to become someone recognizable besides from being the 'chosen one's brother./_

_/Get to the point, will you?/ _Harry thought back.

_/Don't worry, our conversation is not just private; my hat can slow down time for me to make lengthy decisions./_

_/But still!/_

_/Okay, down to business. _

_I cancel out Gryffindor immediately from our choices, because of your cautiousness, and despise for immediate action. Despite your family tradition, you're just too... Slytherin._

_I reluctantly cross off Slytherin from our choices, not because you lack the traits, but you're TOO Slytherin. Like... wolf in sheep skin. Your family wouldn't approve of your house anyways, so nah. _

_I also don't like the idea of you going to Ravenclaw OR Hufflepuff, because you're not reading for the sake of reading and gathering knowledge. You're too ambitious to be in Hufflepuff, and aren't loyal at all, unless to further your goals, while you understand the value of friends and allies very well. _

_So if the Headmaster was different, under normal circumstances, I would sort you as an apprentice to a staff member magically, but fortunately and unfortunately, Dumbledore has severed all ties as a representative of the school to the Apprentice House. As an instrument of Hogwarts, I can't sort you into that selection. _

_Soooo... **You** have to make the choice. Which of the four houses? Decide, and I will respect your decision. Oh, and about 30 seconds have passed, to let you know./**L**_

Harry thought over the hat's words. It was right. Gryffindor he detested, and Slytherin wasn't thinkable. It was Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. But... He really didn't like the house of loyalty and friendship, so...

/RAVEN-/

"-CLAW!" and like that, he was sorted. Did James, Dumbledore, McGonagall and Lily look a bit disappointed, or was it just him?

* * *

"Smith, Neil!"

"Hufflepuff!"

"Tellemon, Ajax!"

"Gryffindor!"

"Warbeck, Quentin!"

"Slytherin!"

"Windcrow, Annabeth!"

"Slytherin!"

"Zhang, Daniel!"

"Hufflepuff!"

The names went on and on. Harry was daintily poking his fork and a treacle tart. Dudley, though, beside him was literally pouring platters of food down his throat plates at a time. He caught Harry's eye, and grinned, only a brief respite from his aggressive attack on the vulnerable food.

"How do you eat all that and not puke it out?" He used his fork as a spear on the battlefield of hams to skewer them five at a time.

"Exercise and practice." He said casually. Harry shook his head in amazement and turned to finish his own plate.

Occasionally a classmate would shyly ask him a question about his family, friends and how he lived. Harry would've been flattered if they weren't all asking about his brother.

Actually, he felt sorry for Steven; how would he deal with all these admirers and fans when he came to Hogwarts?

He made conversation with Padme and Maxwell Chang, an first-year of Asian descent. He had thin eyebrows, a round face, with a slightly flat nose and piercing brown eyes.

"Nice to meet you; I'm Max."

"Pametan, just call me Padme."

"Harry; Harry Potter."

"Now that the introductions are over, we can talk about other stuff. What about the most interesting topic right now; Harry's family. I understand they're celebrities?"

"Well... I have Lily Potter as my mom, James Potter as my dad, Steven Potter's my younger brother, and Avery Potter as younger sister. I only have a few other relations; the Netherbrick family, Black family, Malfoy family, Longbottom family, Weasley family, and the Dursley family all have our family members in their family tree. My favorite aunt is Petunia. See that guy sitting right next to me? That's Dudley, her son." Maxwell nodded. "What about you?"

"My big sister's Cho, who's sometimes more immature than me, and she always goes around moping because her new boyfriend abandoned her or something. My dad's working in China, and mom's getting lots of business setting up shop in Easlebrand Alley, since she's an enchanter." He puffed his chest proudly at that.

"My family are muggles; my sister is going to Hogwarts too, maybe next year, and while mom is d-dead, dad is working as the head dentist in his workplace at his doctor company." Padme smiled sadly.

"So tell me about enchanting. What branch of magic is it?"

"Enchanting is a mixture of runes, charms, and arithmancy. You need runes to provide your basic power, to make the spells on it more permanent, that kinda thing. You need charms to test the quality of your runes, diagnoses the material your working on, and also use intention charms to use your will to mold the magic into your tool. Arithmancy for calculating how much space it will take up; how large the rune is, how it will work in different environments. Every enchantment is unique, like creating a new spell. Unfortunately, I can't tell you more. Secrets of trade, ya know?" Harry nodded. This was one other thing he could research. "Mom doesn't want me to come to Hogwarts, because she thinks home-schooling is better, but Dumbledore's a great man, and there's some aspects of magic that can't be taught any where else here."

Harry pretty much withdrew from much talk with Maxwell after that. He really didn't appreciate conversation with a Dumbledorefan. Dumbledore was nearly the cause of all his troubles in life, and he had the lowest expectations for that master manipulator.

Speaking of him, the revered Headmaster was making a welcoming speech right now. Harry tuned in.

"Ahern - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you." He smiled grandfatherly.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins, who were trying to make themselves sparse.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. "Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!" And the school bellowed:

**"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,**

**Teach us something please,**

**Whether we be old and bald**

**Or young with scabby knees,**

**Our heads could do with filling**

**With some interesting stuff,**

**For now they're bare and full of air,**

**Dead flies and bits of fluff,**

**So teach us things worth knowing,**

**Bring back what we've forgot,**

**just do your best, we'll do the rest,**

**And learn until our brains all rot."**

After the feast was over, Harry, Dudley and Padme made their way together up to the Ravenclaw Tower, with the prefects guiding them. They traversed the bleak halls, their shiny black shoes tapping on the stone blocks. Hogwarts was like a huge labyrinth, which captured and ensnared them.

Harry and the others walked up to the Raven statue, which it's door knocker asked a question, and the prefect answered it.

"What is the first Fundamental Law of Magic?"

"For every magical action, there is an equal and opposite reaction."

Inside the tower there were blue curtains hanging around with a bronze-colored walls. White columns and a statue of the house's founder decorated the place, with peaceful tables and chairs were scattered around the room.

There was linked rooms, all connected to the same common rooms; one for each student. Two bathrooms (boy and girl) were stationed on either end of the hallway that met the common and student rooms. There was no boy and girl dorms.

Inside their room, Harry discovered a small desk, chair, an foldable and portable reading table with a torch near it, most likely for reading at night, and a one-person bed in the corner of the blue-brown colored room. Harry set his traveling bag onto one end of the desk, and locked the door.

After changing into his pj's, he relaxed onto his bed, and fell asleep instantly, pondering about what could the future hold for him. His life at Hogwarts had started out with a flying start. This was his chance to shine!

* * *

AN:(Author's Notes) I intend this to be a very unique fic.

Remember, this site is your creative playground/sandbox, and mine too. Your reviews are a way to express your imagination.

I highly appreciate diverse and original ideas on plots, pairings, and imaginary background details on different characters.

So my message can be summed up in two words:

**Review Now!**


	5. Holding your Heart Close to You

Disclaimer: No, I really want to but I don't own Harry Potter, so please stop accusing me of copyright infringement.

I encourage you to read and review, but can't force you because it's your own choice.

_flashback_

_s/s/ parseltounge /s/s_

**_L/_** _mindspeak/legilimency/any type of mind art **/L**_

_***side note, or different language***_

**whatever word may seem important**

* * *

Chapter 3

* * *

_He just wanted to take a peaceful walk outside. Couldn't these idiots leave him alone? He was on a vacation, for god's sake._

_There were four of them; hooded, armed with twin swords strapped on their backs, and wrapped in black costumes designed to look imposing. Through his contact lenses he could tell there several magical items on them. The katanas were enchanted, obviously, there was leftover energy on a piece of chest-plate armor, most-likely made of cheap dragon skin and woven iron, and finally concealed wands tucked in their belts. Through his nose he could smell out their descent; most likely British, since these idiots smelled like strong Early Grey. He also picked up the scent of a fox and raven of some kind, so some of them were obviously animagus._

_ Not hired mercenaries either, because a professional would never let the prey be downwind of them. _

_He sighed, reaching inside his jacket and took out a cigarette and lighter. What a nuisance. He stuck the piece of rolled up tobacco in his mouth and briefly clicked the trigger to get him a satisfying gout of flame and long draught._

_The leader, who were so still you could mistake him for a statue, drew his wand and pointed his stick at him. _

_"So you are the Squib Tychoon." He was smugly proclaiming. The others drew their swords. He was amused. So they knew who he was and still proceeded to threaten him? Hadn't they heard of his track record? Slayed a thousand French at Pyrominx's Lake, Separated Voldie's left arm from his body at the Skirmish of Venomhold, hunted down the Lestranges in the Rampage of Las Vegas, and finally single-handedly taken down the Weaslean Lioness during the Siege of Lynxclaw. And that was probably only the bottom ten of his famous achievements. _

_ Indifferent to their threats, he pulled out his beautiful old-fashioned technomancy-enhanced revolver. Good. There wasn't anybody around to witness their demise. Rather unnerved at his silence, the assailants inched closer. One of them shouted a word in Russian, and a bolt of purple light zapped out from his sword to fry the ground in front of him. Idiots. So where was he going to hide their bodies again?_

_"Freeze, and drop your weapon on the ground!" Evidently arrogant Durmstrang alumni. _

_With a totally anti-climatic air, he casually took aim and gave the one who shouted a head shot, the enchanted bullet penetrating the man's black mask to explode inside his head to release a bloody spray of brains and bone. Then he poured a round into the one closest to him. _

___BAM! BAMBAMBAMBAMBAM! _

_The surprised man gave a cry of pain, then his body burst as the bullets released their deadly shrapnel. Blood stains flowered on his robes. He tried to open his mouth to say something, but he kicked him down with contempt. _

_The ringing and unexpected noise disoriented the last two men so much they just stood there, stunned, which gave him time to swiftly stride over to the next person and crack his spine with a chop to the neck. Definitely not professional. Another foe crumpled to the ground. _

_The last man, the leader, saw what he had done to his little entourage, and like all perpetually selfish cowards, turned tail and ran for his life. Not so fast!_

_Taking one step forward, he extended his outstretched hand, and from it hurled a empty revolver, boomerang style. As he expected, it connected with the other guy's head, and knocked him out instantly. _

_Swaggering up to him, he picked up his gun from the groaning man, before reloading it. He hummed to himself as he clipped on a portkey to the man's clothing. He could find out who it was later. Well, he still had some business to finish. __Never let down your guard, his sensei had taught. _

_Whirling on his heels, he snapped off a shot into... Empty air. For a second there was a tense pause. Had he mistaken the drawn breath that may have been the air whistling, or the rustle of a cloak that could've been another wriggling in their death throes?_

_Then... There was a death groan of another bigot, the silvery giveaway cloak sliding off his blond head, and elm and dragon heartstring wand sliding out of his long bony fingers. _

* * *

Harry woke up seeing bronze and blue from his dream. He was facing the ceiling of his cozy-looking room. He panicked for a second, not recognizing his room in Potter Manor, but after a second, recalled where he was. It was his first year in Hogwarts! He was sorted in Ravenclaw! He had forgotten it one of these days.

He bolted up from bed. What time was it? As one of the few wandless spells he could perform, taught by his mother, he cast the time-telling spell.

"_TEMPUS!_" he murmured. *(1)

Fiery blue letters formed in the air in front of Harry. It formed 'six-thirty'. On a normal day, he would already be outside with his broomstick, sword and paint-ball gun, shooting targets while on his Earlybird 180, or practicing with his industrial-grade steel blade, dismembering dummies and parrying imaginary foes through drills.

Hurriedly, he dressed up with a magician's vest *(2), and then the Hogwarts uniform on top of it. Alaskan boots, Bubotuber skin gloves (don't laugh) and military trunks.

Unfortunately, first years couldn't own broomsticks. Damn Filch (or Dumbledore) and his rules! However, unbeknownst to Dumbledore, Harry had already smuggled in his Jamacian piece of wood inside a shrunk and secret side pocket with almost every undetectable and invisibility charm on it to avoid detection.

Harry swung his door smoothly open, making no sound whatsoever as the oiled hinges swung silently. He was in a hall connecting all the rooms of the first years. Disappointingly, there was only four new Ravenclaw first years; Dudley, Padme, Maxwell and him. He sneaked down the staircase to the Common Room. There, some older Ravenclaws were up early, dedicating nearly all their time to the study of books. he bypassed them easily, still carrying his traveling bag. Harry went through the entrance that the Ravenclaw Door Knocker opened for him, and snuck down from the West Wing to the famous Quidditch Pitch.

He had remembered the Marauder's Map enough times to memorize every secret passageway by heart, and knew enough tricks of James's trade to evade Filch.

Harry took a secret passage way to the outside, and into the Quidditch locker rooms. There he went through his morning exercise, with stretches, sit-ups and push-ups to get his blood flowing.

He then took a sword in a scabbard out of his bag.

It had the Potter crest engraved on it, and when he slid it out of his sheath it shone. Harry smiled, and also took out his paint-ball gun, a slim and robustly-shaped toy.

Even though the other siblings were unaware, and the parents did their best to make sure they didn't know, Harry had known about the prophesy and his sibling's destinies as young as when he was a year old, thanks to his memories. His parents had even tried to obliviate him once, to give him a 'normal childhood', but unfortunately for them they didn't know about his abnormalness, nor that any type of memory charm, potion, compulsion, or legilimency could affect any part of his recall power.

He knew about all that, so when Petunia started training him in the handling and use of weapons and battle conditioning, he didn't ask why. He knew that the adults obviously were sure that Voldemort was coming back one day. It was the same reason why Dumbledore came to check on Avery and Steven every month. Somehow, he never noticed him.

He went out to the Quidditch pitch, and his enchanted caribou-skin boots crunched on the fresh grass.

He left his scabbard and gun on the ground beside him, and sat down to clean and sharpen his sword, while thinking.

He had started to have these dreams ever since seven. No one believed him at that time, since he was just starting to 'lie' about being the real Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry held up his gleaming sword, and then imitated a parry, then thrust. The light flashed in his eyes as the shining metal blade cut through the air.

Only Petunia and Remus believed him. Harry was first afraid that he was being possessed, but afterwards, curious about the visions he was receiving.

But they weren't mere 'visions'. In the theory, visions were like a TV screen, and that you were just a bystander. But visions don't make you feel cut you, scream at you, or let you take a key role in torturing it. When he went into one, he felt that it was real; like it was a long-lost memory. They were sometimes horrifying, or strange. Harry had used to try to use occlumency to keep them out, but they always came, no matter what dreamless sleep potions he tried. But it wasn't that bothersome; they only came about once a month.

These dreams were all about different people's adventures; all he could discern from them were that they were all fighting in a war. But why was he the one that had these dreams? Who was the man? When did they take place, and most importantly, WHY did he have them and how?

Harry slashed the air experimentally. Then he stood up, twirling his sharp weapon in habit, and then went through his exercises and drills.

Dueling stance, posture correction. Whip, whip, draw back, twirl, blade lock, thrust. Clash, feint to the left, kick. Adjust footing, stab, draw back, upright parry. Whirl, fencing stance, needle, circle, engage. Undercut, uppercut, grab, roundhouse kick, parry. Slash left, Slash right, leap. Repeat.

He would do this countless times, till he felt satisfied in his form.

Harry was determined to make the most out of his training. To prove himself, if anything else.

He finished his morning work at 7:20, and was on time for breakfast. There, Dudley and Padme waited for him. He was quite surprised at their early rising! It seems that not all people rose late. Dudley patted on the bench beside him to signal towards him to sit.

"Dudley! Padme." He gave a respectful nod to his latest friend. She was wearing the same black Hogwarts robes as him, and her bronze hair cascaded down in waves.

"Harry." They both acknowledged. The other people at the Ravenclaw table waved at him as well.

"Potter!"

"It seems that they had already warmed up to you, didn't they?" Dudley said. Harry grunted.

"Yep. What classes do we have today?" Flitwick was making pieces of parchment with their schedule on it hover above their person's plate. Dudley frowned at the parchment, his eyes searching the paper.

"Potions with the all the houses in our first period, DADA with Hufflepuffs in second period, History of Magic with Slytherins in third, and finally Charms with the older Ravenclaws before lunch. Then Herbology with Gryffindors and transfiguration with Hufflepuffs to finish off the day. Did I mention a ten minute period between classes?" Harry nodded confidently.

"Breakfast ends at... 9:00 then. Padme, you have the same schedules as us. Want to go together?" Padme was gulping down large amounts of tea. She nodded, then grabbed her book bag and quill.

The trio took a peeves-free journey from the Great Hall to the dungeons. Since they had finished breakfast early, the hallways and corridors were empty and only occasionally they saw another student walking through the passages.

Harry had heard of Snape's hate against all things related to Gryffindor and his blatant favoritism towards Slytherin. So it was natural for him to be quite wary of what might happen in the class, since he was a Potter, and the eldest at that.

They navigated the dungeons flawlessly, avoiding all the trick steps and revolving staircases. They didn't meet peeves this time either, but met the Grey Lady, who drifted dreamily right through them, and the Fat Friar, which grinned at them (evidently he was in a good mood) and dropping to the hard stone floor after prancing in the air, he danced around them and gave a cheerful welcome.

When they reached the right entrance and opened the door, Harry caught a whiff of a smelly potion that made him want to puke. The musty castle scent was irritating, but this was vile!

Inside the classroom it was much colder than outside. The classroom was pretty big. Two separate hosts of chairs claimed the left and right of the classroom. There was a single column in the middle, with the back wall curving so it was connecting the other two walls, creating a type of right angled classroom. There was a blackboard on the other two walls, and a side door and desk. Torches and a candle lit the dim classroom.

Harry, Dudley and Padme all sat nearby a torch, wanting to get closer to the warmth. They were all thoroughly disgusted at the preserves of rare ingredients pickled and stored in their glass jars. A giant frog eye stared at them from a corner of the chamber.

The trickle of students coming in thickened into a stream. Gryffindors, Slytherins, Hufflepuffs, and even their own Ravenclaws were almost late. They all wore black robes, but the tie in their uniform reflected their house. Red, Green, Yellow and blue could be seen in the classroom, and talk and murmurs echoed around. More than one glance was sent towards Harry's way, and he shifted uncomfortably.

There was a hustle as the more late Gryffindor students stumbled in; John Carpenter, a muggle-born, and Egdlar Eaglethine. They looked around quickly, and then tried to sit down discreetly. But their plan of making their way undetected to their seats were foiled when Severus Snape emerged from a side entrance to the classroom with a bang as the doors were swung open. It echoed loudly, and the noise of the student's chattering were silenced.

"5 points from Gryffindor each! Mr. Carpenter, Mr. Eaglethine, sit down and stop disturbing the class." The humiliated students quickly found their seats. Snape now turned to the class, disdainfully assessing the students. After he was satisfied, he pulled out a list of students from his black robes. The three Ravenclaws tried to sit up straighter, and make themselves look more presentable, lest the man focus on them and start taking points from their house. Ravenclaws hated slackers, and the way they judged you were by the points you could earn.

Overachievers were labeled 'teacher's pet'. Slouches in discipline were troublemakers and to be avoided socializing with. To get about 2 points a day was average, and good students. Overachievers were the ones who got over 5, and slouches were the ones who got none or lost points a day.

He started his roll call, and paused ever so slightly when he came to Harry's name. He named every kid in Hogwarts under third year, and sneered every so often at people he recognized. If you listened closely, when he got 'Mallary, Justin', he could be heard muttering "One more year... One more year until he comes..."

When he finished, he gave out his yearly introduction speech to the first years.

* * *

**"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking, and a****s there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with ****its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – ****if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."**

**-JKR**

* * *

His dark eyes bored down at the uncomfortable Gryffindors. Then, he seemed to focus his attention on Harry and his cousin.

"Potter!" he snapped. "Name the first five steps on how to prepare the Wiggenweld Potion!" The question was quite unexpected for the older students, who had expected them to be grilled for answers.

Harry smirked back. Remus had drilled into him in his potions just for this reason. 'Teach Snape not to bully the Potters' he had said. Anyways, the first five steps of this basic potion were so simple that a baby could memorize it. It was all about adding a simple element to create a balanced magical setting to prepare for the addition of the lionfish scales.

"Step one; add salamander blood until the potion turns red!" He barked back.

Step two; stir until the potion turns orange!

Step three; add more salamander blood, this time until it turns yellow!

Step four; stir until the potion turns green!

Step five; add more salamander blood, until the potion turns turquoise! Sir!" He finished. Snape looked startled and quite off his balance for a moment, before turning to Harry's cousin.

"Dursley!" He nearly yelled. "What is the use of said potion?"

Dudley rolled his eyes and replied in the same manner as Harry.

"The Wiggenweld potion is a type of healing potion that wakes the drinker from enchanted sleep. Sir!" Snape turned away shaking his head and muttering under his breath 'bloody Ravenclaws'. Harry could hear the potions master drilling into the Gryffindors.

"Eaglethine!" he was barking, "What happens when you add three WHOLE fermented spider eyes to the Wiggenweld potion before you put in the ground lionfish scales?" The boy was dumbfounded, and so did the rest of the second and first year population.

"Umm... It blows up? Sir?" Snape sneered.

"No, stupid boy! It transfers the potion into a basic version of the Draught of Living Death! Blackboots!" He addressed the snooty girl whom Harry had seen during the sorting. "How many steps are there in brewing the Cure for Boils?"

The girl looked quite unafraid of the over-grown bat.

"I don't know."

"Didn't think you had to open a book before coming to class, did you? Eleven steps is the correct answer. Twenty points from Gryffindor!" When both Gryffindors looked indignant, he added, "for not being prepared enough for class. Well? Why aren't you writing that down?" The scribbling of quill on parchment became dominant in the room.

After using a piece of chalk to scratch the instructions for Boil Cure, Snape set them up in pairs, before sweeping out of the room. Dudley and Harry paired up.

The boils potion was pathetically easy to brew, but Harry jotted down the eleven steps in his notebook anyways with a ball-point pen. He hated quills!

He jotted down the following:

_1. Add 6 snake fangs to the mortar._

_2. Crush into a fine powder using the pestle._

_3. Add 4 measures of the crushed fangs to your cauldron._

_4. Heat the mixture to 250 for 10 seconds._

_5. Wave your wand for your innate magic to power it._

_6. Leave to brew and return in 700 seconds._

_7. Add 4 horned slugs to your cauldron._

_8. Take the cauldron off the fire before adding the next ingredient._

_9. Add 2 porcupine quills to your cauldron._

_10. Stir 5 times, clockwise._

_11. Wave your wand to complete the potion._

They were done just in time for the bell to ring with a deep resounding _dong_. The Gryffindors weren't even close, so Snape collected the Ravenclaws and put a stasis charm on the unfinished ones.

"Four feet of parchment on the discovery of the Wiggenweld Potion! Class Dismissed." The trio nearly ran out of the dungeons in effort to get away from the Potions teacher. Maybe Snape isn't that bad, Harry thought. The questions he asked were all pretty simple.

Dudley, Harry and Padme went to their DADA class soon afterwards. To attempt to escape the jinx, James had moved his classroom, and now the new place was down at the Transfiguration Courtyard.

They did meet Peeves this time. The naughty poltergeist did a cartwheel in the air, then his grey and transparent form swooped down on the three first years.

"GOT YOUR **CONK**!" The smell of dung-bombs permeated the air as he released them directly in front of them. Blinded by the stink, the three poor children staggered back. But they were saved by the timely arrival of Professor James Potter, who was looking for Harry.

"Awwww, poor little firsties!" He chuckled as he cast air-freshening charms around the kids. Peeves, after giving a neat bow to his old friend and teacher, zoomed off.

"Merlin's beard! What was that?!" Dudley, Harry decided, would never get over the awesomeness of Wizarding swearing and exclamations.

"Peeves." Harry replied. "The castle's greatest troublemaker." Unfortunately, he'd forgotten James was with them as well. The Professor's chest puffed up importantly.

"SECOND greatest troublemaker." He proclaimed. "I'M the greatest- wait, no. Peeves is the... fourth. Me first, then Sirius and Remus. I heard those Weasley twins may be competing with him also."

All three acknowledged Professor Potter profusely. Afterwards, he lead them to his classroom/office, which was directly across the courtyard.

The Transfiguration courtyard was filled with chattering students, with a century-year old tree in a corner, and a Armillary sphere in the center of the courtyard. James's chamber had four pillars to help support the wide ceiling and room structure of the classroom, and with a long pedestal in the center, with a side room leading to an office, which inside had two desks and four chairs, with a cabinet.

James gave them the front seats, on the front-left corner, and grinned at Dudley before making eyes at Padme. Seems like he was already pairing them up. Typical prankster!

Ten minutes was up after a few moments, and the bell rang again.

Students poured in, and they chattered incessantly. James got ready behind his demonstration desks, and began roll call.

After some while, he stopped and began his speech.

"Good morning, class! My name is James Potter, your new DADA teacher." he said enthusiastically.

"Goooooddddd moooorrrnnnningggg Professor Potter." The class moaned. James nodded, satisfied.

"The Defense Against Dark Arts is a very practical class, as well as an important skill in life. I will teach you this year the way to magically defend themselves from Dark creatures and Dark magic. This year we will start with the basic counter-curses, jinxes, and how to treat wounds." He began to draw a list of the curriculum.

_Unit 1: Self-Protection_

_Chapter 1: Curse Theory_

_Chapter 2: Basic Jinxes_

_Chapter 3: Useful knowledge about Dark Objects_

_Chapter 4: Rudimentary Dueling Etiquette_

_Chapter 5: Treating Injuries_

_Chapter 6: Dangerous Magical Animals _

"Untidy scribbles of a quill and lacking progress here is discouraged. If I cannot read your writing, then you don't get a grade for it, while if your behavior is bad, I heard detention with our Caretaker Argus Filch is particularly boring and punishing. I can, and will help any students with questions however I can. Here, we will have homework once three days, and a quiz- yes, I said quiz, don't get me wrong, every week to see if you fully comprehend the material. So homework cheaters out there, too bad for you." He said it in all seriousness.

He highlighted the first subject; Curse Theory.

"Today, we will be starting with learning about the fundamentals of curses." He pulled up a diagram to the front of his pedestal. "Turn in your book _The Dark Forces, A Guide To Self-Protection _to pg. 1. Read the first chapter silently, and we'll have a written assignment on it."

Unlike Snape, he didn't let them do their own work, but rather walked around and answered the student questions. The Hufflepuffs were obedient, as always, and the Ravenclaws were studiously entranced by their textbook. As a result, the classroom was empty of noise besides the occasional scratching of quills taking notes and flipping of pages.

After he had seen everybody finish, he said; "Let's do some practical work. You've now read of the affects, incantation, and origin, as well as the theory of how it is structured. Did anyone read about the Curse of Boogies? To cast is to first slash diagonally, and then draw a horse-shoe type U in the air. It causes the victim to attain a runny nose. The incantation? _Mucus ad Nauseam. _This 'curse' is a magic and wand-conditioning spell. Not strong enough or full-filling all the requirements to be a proper combat curse, it was made to give people new to curses a felling of how to cast one." With a flourish, he walked to one side of the 'wall' of his classroom, and used a magical lever to activate the moving door, which jumped aside to reveal a huge platform. A dueling platform. The walls were all wash-out white, and some red bullseye targets lined one side.

A crowd of students eagerly gathered on the platform. James Potter pushed his way to the front, and held up his hands for silence.

"We today, will be practicing the Curse of the Bogies on the red targets; your aim is to try to correctly spell the targets with the curse. If you do so correctly, the targets will flash blue briefly. I'll go around to insure safety and correct casting. Start when you're ready!"

The room suddenly echoed with voices shouting 'Mucus ad Nauseam', bangs, cracks, cries of delight and pain, and most obnoxiously, the sound of someone passing gas emitting from an embarrassed Hufflepuff's wand.

James hustled around, correcting people's forms and performing the counter-curses. For Harry and Dudley, though, they had gotten only a spark of magic out of their wands, while Padme's spell left a black mark above one of the targets. James saw them, and awarded graciously five points to her. But Harry and Dudley rolled their eyes when she looked so proud that she was about to burst. For they knew that the house and point system were all decrepit.

The house system was totally ruined when Slytherin was alienated and Gryffindor was proclaimed the 'hero's house. Plus the wizarding biases, the house system did nothing more than to create tension and rivalries, plus an uneven balance of people going to the houses. More that one muggle-born started chanting 'not Slytherin, not Slytherin' underneath the sorting hat, and pure-bloods were rumored to do the same, but as 'not Gryffindor, not Gryffindor'.

The point system was useless as well, since you didn't GET anything out of it. Nobody cares if you won the 'house cup', which gives you no special privileges, just 'honor'.

After a few more rounds of sparks flying around, and in Padme's case, trying to control her blasts of magic, James had enough and moved them back to the classroom. There, he gave out the homework.

"A feet of parchment summing up the differences between curses, jinxes, and hexes. Class dismissed! Harry, stay after class." The rest of the students poured out, but Harry stayed behind, with Padme and Dudley waiting for him.

James brought Harry to his office. "So how's Hogwarts? Are you having fun?" Harry nodded.

"I've made good friends, James. Hogwarts is great, like you've always said so, but I haven't looked around underneath the invisibility cloak yet. How is the situation at home?" James frowned.

"Avery's out with your mom, and Steven's with Sirius. Anyways, I'm so proud of you! Okay, I won't hold you back any longer. Be careful of Snivellus, and if you have any problems that I can help with, just ask. Take care, my little Prongslet! But remember always; hold your heart close to you." Harry hurried out of the classroom, joining Dudley and Padme.

"What did your dad talk to you about?" Dudley asked curiously. Harry shrugged non-chalantly.

"He just asked about how's school, and how proud he was of me." He didn't mention anything about his father's last words.

* * *

*1: Harry knows many household spells: _accio, augumenti, alohamora, anapeo, chama, colloportus, diminuendo, erecto, evansco, finite, ventus._

*2: Magician's Vest: Useful armor made out of underlaid acromantula silk, thin silver lining, and rudder-wood tree bark. Dragon-hide layering optional. Usually used as light protection during dueling or hunting dangerous and rare animals. Invented by dragon-tamers. Price: $500.

* * *

AN (Author's Note):

The dreams are essential to the plot line, and also adds a bit of action into boring chapters. Who here can guess the man underneath the invisibility cloak during his dream? (Hint: the wand is the key)

Who can guess the student Snape was muttering about?

(Put me in your communities so I can be more of a productive citizen.)


End file.
